


Oh Tannenbaum

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, Drama, F/M, Romance, Series: The Adventures of Armando Langostini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-16
Updated: 1999-12-16
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Armando and Cass prepare to celebrate the holidays.This story is a sequel toBlessings.





	Oh Tannenbaum

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Oh Tannenbaum

## Oh Tannenbaum

by Kali Sandison

Author's disclaimer: Standard.

Author's notes: Constructive criticism always welcome. Oh hell, just e-mail me and tell me you read it.

* * *

Disclaimer: The characters of Armando Langostini, Nero the Butler and Benton Fraser are property of Alliance. No infringement of copyright is intended. This story is written for the private entertainment of "due South" fans. This story is not published for profit and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit. 

Rated: PG for adult situations and language. 

Oh, Tannenbaum 

It was 9:00 on Saturday morning when Cass Lindsey pulled into the driveway at Armando Langostini's home. It seemed hard to believe that she had just met this man a mere four weeks earlier. They'd become good friends in such a short time. And now here she was picking him up to go get a Christmas tree and ornaments. 

She had barely stopped her truck when he ran out the door; an ear-to-ear grin was splitting his face. His eyes twinkled more than any rendition of Santa Claus she'd ever seen. He pulled open the passenger door and jumped in the cab. 

"Well, you're certainly in high spirits today," she commented. 

"Yes, I am and I owe it all to you." 

"Oh," she inquired, "and what, pray tell, have I done to deserve such a compliment?" 

"I took the advice you gave me Thursday night. And I feel so much better." 

"That fast? Made your plan? Visualized the whole thing in detail? And now you're feeling better?" she asked as she shifted the transmission into drive and left his home. 

"Well, no. Not the whole plan. But I did get one very important element of it done and that helped." 

"Gee, if only one step does this to you, I can't wait to see how you handle getting the whole thing done. We may have to put bricks in your pockets to keep you earth bound." She was very glad to see he was feeling better but suspected he might be deluding himself. It was never that easy to tie up loose ends. But she was willing to go along and changed the subject. 

"So, what kind of a tree are you going to have." 

"Can we get a real tree out here?" 

"Yes, but that isn't what I meant. I was referring to how you were going to decorate it." 

"Oh, well I thought that's why I asked you to come with me. You're the artist. That makes you in charge of decorating." 

"Look, I decorated my tree last night. Besides, the decorations should be a reflection of your personal taste. Although, admittedly, I'm not sure Armani has put out a line of Christmas ornaments yet." 

He made a face at her, which she didn't acknowledge. "So what are my options?" 

"Well, you could go with what I call a designer tree. These are trees that are coordinated around a particular color scheme. There's a subset of designer trees that I call the theme tree. Here, not only are you working with a particular color palette, you also have a central theme to work around. For example, I have a friend who puts up an "apple" tree every year. Her ornaments are all bright red shiny wooden apples, with some red and white glass ball ornaments interspersed. Her lights are red and white and her garland is silver and white. Then she ties a big red and white gingham check bow around the top and has streamers of the same ribbon hanging down from it." 

Armando grimaced. "Any other choices?" he inquired. 

"Well, personally I'm a fan of the eclectic tree." 

"What's that?" 

"That's when you collect ornaments over the years that may or may not have anything to do with anything else and just go wild. Of course, multi-color lights are de rigeur for this kind of tree as is silver icicle tinsel." 

"I like that idea." 

"I was afraid of that." 

"How come?" 

"Well, it's hard to pull off your first year. However, if that's what you want, I'd suggest a modified approach." 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning that we get a quantity of quasi generic ornaments in roughly the same size and then start you off with a couple of special ornaments. Then, as the years go by, you can add to that collection and take out the bulk ornaments." 

"Okay, I can live with that. I just don't want a tree that looks like it came out of Better Homes and Gardens." 

"Then why'd you ask an artist to decorate it?" 

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I didn't. I asked my friend." 

"Oh, there you go again with that sweet talk." she laughed. 

He liked it when he could make her laugh. Laughter was something he'd not heard much of since he moved west. There wasn't a lot of humor in arranging deals to sell guns to gangsters. And the Iguana family wasn't prone to laughing. They ruled their turf by fear and grudging respect. "No," Armando thought, "they all seemed to be born without a funny bone." Even his occasional wise cracks and witty repartee were usually met with stone cold silence. He sighed. 

"What's wrong?" Cass inquired. 

"Nothing." 

"You're lying to me. You know I can tell when you lie." 

"Yeah, I'm lying. But believe me anyway, okay?" 

"Okay." She was used to this exchange. It meant that he was thinking about that deep dark secret part of his life that he wouldn't share with her. And she had honored his request to not talk about it. The best she could do was keep herself open to him and try to protect him as best she could. 

Fortunately, he found a suitable change of subject. "So you actually celebrate Christmas, huh?" 

"Yeah, why shouldn't I?" 

"Well, what with you being a pagan witch and all..." 

"Hello! Christmas IS a pagan celebration. The Christians merely adopted it so they could get the pagans to convert." 

"Oh lady, you're goin' straight to hell for that remark." 

"Sweetie, according to the Catholic Church, I was on my way to hell 16 years ago." 

"Huh?" That stunned him. "You were a Catholic?" 

"Yup. Born, raised, christened, confirmed etc. My mom even saved my first communion veil. And I think she still has my first school uniform; blue jumper and white blouse with obligatory 'Peter Pan' collar. Boy, that seems lifetimes ago..." 

He could tell she was taking a private trip down memory lane and wanted to go along with her. 

"So what did you do that was so bad? I mean, you did say they mentioned eternal damnation." 

"I sexually propositioned a priest." 

"You WHAT?!?" 

"You heard me." 

"A priest? You're kiddin' me." 

She got a misty far away look in her eyes and now he wasn't so sure that she wasn't telling the truth. 

"Father Klein had retired and the diocese must have thought it was time for a change because his replacement was completely different. Father John was young; really young; like in his mid thirties young; younger than any priest I'd ever met. I didn't know you could be that young and be a priest... And gorgeous; light brown hair, bright intelligent, and playful eyes and a smile that would have made some toothpaste company very wealthy. This was the inspiration for Michaelangelo's 'David'. He was the kind of guy you wanted to look at and say 'I got two words for you. Gene Pool. Now go out there and contribute to it.' There I was about to start my senior year in high school and had some seriously raging hormones. And God put that temptation in my face." 

"So?" Armando led. 

"So... I suddenly took a much more active part in church. I did everything I could to be near him. And then one night I made a pass at him." 

Armando was starting to snicker. "You made a pass? At a priest?" 

"Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, after all, I was already going to hell for lusting over him. How much worse could it get?" 

"And what'd he do?" 

"Oh my, his face turned so red. Even the tips of his ears blushed. His eyes got really wide and he had this deer-caught-in-headlights look. I felt like a complete fool." 

He thought of Benny back in Chicago. Yeah, he'd seen that look before. "So, did he let you down gently?" 

"I never gave him a chance to. I turned tail and ran out of that church and never went back." 

"You're kidding me. You never went back? What'd your parents say?" 

"I told them, semi-truthfully, that I found it difficult to worship there with such a young and inexperienced priest. And they said it was okay to go to a different parish." 

"You made a pass at a priest." He had laughed so hard that his eyes were starting to brim over with tears. 

"Well, I'm glad you find it funny. After that I swore I'd never tell a guy I wanted to go to bed with him. I couldn't stand the humiliation." 

Armando managed to rein in his mirth. He put one hand softly on her right thigh. "So, how come you asked me the night of the ball?" 

She smiled at him. "Oh, something about the way you were throwing yourself at me said you weren't likely to say 'no' to me." 

"Me? I never threw myself at you." 

"Yeah, never let the truth get in the way of a good story." 

"I didn't throw myself at you." 

"That's your story and you're sticking with it?" 

"Damn straight." 

They rode for a few more minutes in companionable silence. Then Armando started up with more questions. 

"So tell me more about this pagan Christmas celebration." 

"Well, actually, it's the celebration of the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year." 

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the shortest day of the year?" 

"Because after that the days start to get longer." 

"Oh, makes sense." 

"A thousand years ago, the celebration lasted for several days. But in modern times, the formal celebration is usually limited to just the night of the solstice. For the Wiccans this is the time of rest and renewal; of re-charging before the growth spurt of the spring. Which is really kind of interesting considering how crazy the rest of the world gets this time of year." 

"Rest of the world, huh? Looks like you're in the thick of it today," he observed as they approached their destination. The parking lot was very full considering how early they'd arrived. 

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be out here if it weren't for you." she teased back. 

Since he knew that to be the truth, he decided to let the matter rest. 

* * *

It was several hours later when they finally had the tree erected in Armando's living room. It was a beautiful tree. Tall and full and nearly perfectly shaped. It had taken them both along with the help of Armando's butler, Nero to get it up straight and square. But once it was decorated, it was well worth the effort. They'd found lights and several nice ornaments at the shop Cass had taken them to. All in all, an excellent tree for Armando. 

Cass looked at her watch. "Yikes! Look at the time. I've got to go home or I won't be ready in time for our date tonight. Still no hints about where we're going?" 

Armando smiled at her. "No. Not one single hint." 

"But how will I know what to wear?" 

"I'll tell you. Wear a nice dress." 

"Oh, you're such a big help," she said sarcastically heading for the door. 

"Hey, and think about packing a bag and spending the night here," he called to her. But it was too late. She was already gone. 

Armando shook his head. He'd been dying to get Cass back into bed since the night they'd first met. But the timing had never been right. And she always had her animals to take care of. He considered hiring someone to take care of them for her. But he knew that wouldn't fly. She truly enjoyed tending to them. The two times he had spent the night at her house, she'd fallen asleep before they'd had a chance to get really intimate. 

It wasn't that she was unaffectionate. She was constantly touching him, hugging him, holding his hand or caressing his face. In fact, a clerk at the ornament shop this morning had commented that they must be newlyweds by the way they were acting. But Armando wanted to see her, as she'd been that first night; abandoning herself to pleasure, lost in the throws of an orgasm. 

He thought back again to that magical first night together. Their bodies inter-twined in passion. The look of surprised ecstasy on her face. He wondered if they could ever repeat that experience. Or was it a one-time thing never to reoccur? Four weeks of thinking about it hadn't given him the perspective he looked for. He just knew that there were mornings he'd awaken, as if from a dream, calling out her name. And there were times like these that he ached to feel her warm curvy body pressed up against his. 

He shook off these thoughts at the sound of footsteps. It was Nero with a glass of buttermilk. "You looked like you could use this, sir," he stated and then walked off. 

Armando looked at the cold glass in his hand, not quite sure what to do with it. He could throw it in his own face and see if that would cool off his passion. "No," he thought "better to drink it and take a cold shower before I get ready to take Cass out to dinner." And that's what he did. 

* * *

It was almost seven o'clock and Cass was in a dither. 'A nice dress' he'd said. Easier said than done. Working on a farm and in a fiber studio didn't lend itself to dresses, nice or otherwise. She'd never felt completely comfortable in dresses and preferred to wear jeans and chinos. She looked at her small selection of dresses. Just what constituted 'nice'? Her black beaded silk dress was 'nice' but was it too dressy for what he'd had planned. "Damn him for being so vague and secretive," she said. After many moments agonizing over her selection, she picked out a short sleeved, crew necked dress made of a micro fiber that was the most wonderful thing to feel against bare skin. Its deep plum color was a nice accent to her auburn hair. And in the right lighting, the dress looked like it was made of velvet. It was a very simple dress, falling from the shoulders in a straight line to her ankles. But with a silver pendant and earrings, she felt she was dressy enough. Jet black stockings and her black satin sling back pumps completed the outfit. She started to pull her hair back into a twist but remembered how much Armando liked it down. She thought for a few minutes and found a way at least curl it so that it stayed off her face. Then she looked critically at her face. Make-up was definitely called for. Like dresses, she'd never been comfortable with make up. But over the years she'd learned to do a little bit that truly enhanced her features without making her look like a clown. She was just grabbing an evening wrap from her dresser when she heard her doorbell ring. 

"Coming!" she yelled for she knew it was a long distance from her bedroom to the front door. The doorbell rang again as she was crossing the living room. She looked at her watch and realized that she was running late. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter as she ran past it for the door. Once there she opened it breathlessly and saw Armando with a small tool set in hand. 

"Oh." was all he could say. 

"Really now, I realize I'm a few minutes late but I hardly think it calls for breaking and entering." 

A sheepish grin crossed his face. "I was afraid something had happened to you." 

"That's your story and you're sticking to it?" 

"Damn straight." He laughed realizing that she thought he was teasing. 

He helped her into his waiting limousine. "Okay, Michael, you know the way," he instructed before he raised the partition. 

"So," she said as the car rolled away, "are you gonna tell me now where we're going?" 

"Dinner and dancing." 

"That's all?" 

"That's all? I think that's a pretty nice date by most standards. What's wrong with you?" 

"No, you totally misunderstood me. I meant was that all the information you were going to give me. No locations? No names of said dining and dancing establishments?" 

"No. You'll find out when we get there." 

"Why are you being so stubborn?" 

"Because I can be. C'mon, lighten up. We're goin' to dinner and then out dancing. It's not like we're meeting the Queen of England. So just relax, sit back, and enjoy yourself." 

"I dunno. This just makes me very nervous." 

"Cass, what's there to be nervous about? It's not like you've been abducted by a complete stranger." He put his hands on her shoulders and giving her a quick massage to relax her. 

"I'm sorry, Armando. I'm just really tense tonight. Something's got me on edge." 

"Well, I try never to discount a woman's intuition but I really don't think you have any thing to worry about. I'm just going to take you out for a nice meal at one of my favorite Italian restaurants. And then I know this really great place to go dancing. I thought you might like to do some fancy steppin' some place other than my living room." 

"Oh, that's really nice. Thank you." She tried to shake off the worry that hung over her head. It wasn't a long drive to the restaurant. And she'd just about managed to relax when they got there. 

She had to admit that it was a very nice restaurant. Armando had chosen well. They were enjoying a wonderful vintage when she suddenly felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She could only identify it as a burst of dark energy entering the room. The she heard a loud man's voice coming closer to her as he yelled. 

"Hey, Armando. Yeah, Langostini, I'm talkin' to you, you scum sucking pig." 

"Hey, Frankie. Where's your manners? Can't you see I'm having dinner with the young lady?" 

"Don't try to hide behind some broad. You know you screwed me and I'm not in the mood to let sleeping dogs lie." 

Cass began coughing wildly as though she had choked on her breadstick. She was trying to stop the argument between the men. But Frankie had only shut up. He hadn't backed off. However a waiter appeared with a glass of water and that had been her hope. She poured some salt in the water and used her knife to stir it. She mimed taking a sip of it and feigned weakness. But while she was slumped over she said a brief prayer of consecration and then raise her head. 

"Gentlemen, perhaps you'd like to take this discussion out to the lobby." 

"Yeah, Frankie, let's take a short walk. No need to air our dirty laundry here in front of everyone." 

"All right. Sorry to upset you ma'am." 

She waved them away but in the process managed to sprinkle some of the salt water on Armando. And while he walked away she concentrated on a spell of protection. Then she surreptitiously sprinkled water around their table. The waiter returned and quirked an eyebrow at her gestures. 

She smiled charmingly. "Old folk belief," she whispered. 

She sipped her wine pensively waiting for Armando to return. The vague form of worry that had bothered her on the way here had clarified into a sharply focused picture. The dark energy had a name...well half a name, Frankie. So who was this man and why did he hate Armando so much? 

Armando returned to the table a look of concern still tightening his features. "Are you okay, Cass?" 

"I'm fine. Who was that?" 

"Just a slob who lost some money in a real estate deal." 

"No it wasn't. Now tell me the truth." 

"Cass, let it go." 

She struggled to keep her voice low and still project the anger she was feeling. It wasn't difficult. Her eyes were nearly shooting sparks. "I will not let it go. Who is that man? Why did he say you screwed him?" 

Armando sighed. He didn't want Cass involved in this business but knew that tone of voice. He'd tangled with tenacious women before. Angie. Louise St. Laurent. He felt his past starting to rear its ugly head. Maybe it was better to tell Cass the truth. Not the whole truth, just enough to answer her immediate question. 

"Frankie Gianelli wanted to develop some real estate up near Reno. I was brokering the deal for some people here in Vegas. The deal went sour. Frankie lost a lot of cash all because he was too arrogant. He thought if he brought enough money to the table, it was a done deal. My client, however, had other needs that Frankie couldn't meet. So now he blames me. You know how it is. Kill the messenger. It happens in business all the time. Deals go bad. People lose their investments." 

"That's all?" She knew intuitively that it wasn't. 

"Those are the details," he said not really looking at her. 

He was rescued from further questioning by the arrival of their dinners. 

Cass had to admit that the food was excellent. Her tortollini with marinara sauce was outstanding. Armando claimed it was not quite as good as his mother's cooking but a very close second. She watched him intently as he ate his linguini and clam sauce. But he seemed oblivious to her scrutiny making casual conversation about the upcoming holiday season and their respective plans. 

"You gonna fly back to Indiana for Christmas?" 

"I don't know. It's such a hassle trying to find someone to watch the animals while I'm gone. There's a guy in the art therapy program at the center who said he'd be happy to help me out. He'd be a logical choice, older gentleman raised on a farm and experienced in dealing with animals. But I don't know." 

"Why not?" 

"The guy's immune system is compromised. One small nick or bite and he could be seriously ill." 

"Well, if he's that experienced, he probably knows how to take care of himself." 

"Yeah, I suppose." She didn't sound too sure. 

"Is this someone in your spinning class?" he asked casually. 

"Yeah. Otis. You might remember me helping him with the carding when you hunted me down." 

He let that barb slide past him. He wondered if that wasn't part of the block to their intimacy. He'd pursued her vigorously that week both at the ball and after she had disappeared. He'd told her she could set the pace but did she believe him. He had tried to keep that promise but maybe she was still testing him, seeing how much control he'd let her have. 

"Yes, I tracked you like caribou across the tundra." The words, Benny's words, were out before he could stop them. Even though she knew who he really was, he never admitted it and now here he was blathering like a snitch. He quickly tried to return to the subject. 

"Yes, I remember Otis. Well, if he's willing to give you a hand, I think you should take it. You work too hard." 

"And you don't, Mr. Real Estate broker? You who fly off at a moments notice to make a deal don't have a whole lot of room to comment." 

"Yeah, but I don't fall asleep in your arms when you come visit me. The last two Wednesday nights I've spent at your place, I've had to carry you off to bed. Now I know I'm not a boring person so I can only attribute this to you working too hard and sleeping too little." 

"Point taken. But there's just so much that needs to be done." 

"What happened to resting and rejuvenating before the coming spring growth spurt?" 

"Remind me to never talk religion with you again. You remember too much. And then you use it against me at the most appropriate time." 

"Seriously Cass. You're burning the candle at both ends. Something's gonna have to give." 

"Well, I hate to admit that you're right but..." 

"Give Otis a chance," he said, making some private plans to talk to the man. 

He looked at her empty plate and changed the subject. 

"So, are you ready for dessert?" 

"Dessert? My god, after all that food, I'd burst." 

"No you wouldn't. I'd make sure you burned it all off on the dance floor." 

She smiled. "I look forward to it." 

Their dinner finished, Armando paid the bill and walked with Cass out the door. The club he had mentioned was only a few blocks away but there was a slight chill in the air. 

"Do you want to walk? Or would you rather I call Mike?" 

"Let's walk. It'll give me a chance to stretch my legs and get ready to spend the rest of the evening on the dance floor." 

They walked quickly and in silence; arms wrapped around each other's waist. It was only a matter of moments before they were facing the entrance to Neon Blue. The hostess led them to the table Armando had reserved for them at the edge of the dance floor. 

Cass soaked in the atmosphere of the club. It had a distinct feel of the 1940's when Woody Herman, the Dorsey Brothers and Glenn Miller were popular. The song the band was playing when they walked in was one Cass recognized but couldn't place. She assumed it was one she'd heard at her grandma Bartholomew's home. Gram's older sisters had toured in USO shows during World War II. Cass recalled sitting in Gram's home in Michigan City every Thanksgiving, begging her great aunts to tell her the stories of their adventures. Her eyes grew misty as the memory took hold of her. 

"You okay?" Armando asked. 

"Yeah, I just got caught up in a bit of nostalgia." 

"Nostalgia? You weren't even alive when this song first came out." 

She simply smiled at him. She didn't feel this was the time or place to discuss reincarnation and past lives with him. For now, she was willing to let the music enter her body and transport her mind to previous decades. 

"Would you like to dance?" Armando asked her. 

"I'd love to." 

They stepped out onto the flood just as the opening strains of Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade reached their ears. She smiled, remembering dancing to this song at the ball just before being unmasked. 

"They're playing our song," Armando said his smile a tender reminder of the evening. 

They were still on the dance floor several songs later when the band took a break. Hand in hand they walked back to their table. 

"So where'd you learn to dance like that, anyway?" he asked. 

"Oh here and there. Mostly from my father." 

"You dad?" 

"Yeah. Aren't dad's supposed to teach their daughters how to dance?" 

"I don't know. I don't really have any experience with dads and their daughters." He hated the lie. The truth was that his dad had made sure that Francesca and Maria married men who were just like him; inconsiderate jerks. At least Franny'd had the sense to get a divorce. He wondered about his sisters and his mom. He wanted so much to call them and tell them how much he missed them. 

He felt Cass gently tapping her fingers on the back of his hand and he realized, with a start, that he'd let the conversation drop. 

"Hey, where'd you go?" 

"Oh just looking at my future," he lied again. "I was thinking about having a daughter some day and teaching her how to dance. So how did your father instruct you?" 

"There's some sort of 'happy feet' gene in both sides of my family. You put music on and we start swinging and swaying. My parents loved to dance. It seemed only natural that they'd teach us. The first dance dad taught me was the polka. Don't ever take me to an Oktoberfest. I'm very popular with the polka fanatics. The fox trot and the waltz followed. During the summers, we'd head up to this place on Lake Michigan every Friday night and go dancing. It was a great time, even when I had to dance with one of my brothers... So how about you? Where'd you learn to dance?" 

"School. Junior High P.E. class." He started to say more but felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. 

Cass sensed the change in him but didn't press. It was part of that forbidden portion of his life B.L.V. She simply held his hand and tried to lighten the mood. 

"Well, I'm sure that's one class that you got an 'A+' in. You know it's interesting. Most guys will only go dancing if you hold a gun to their heads. You seem to really enjoy it." 

"Yeah, I learned early that if you wanted to get the girls, you had to do things the girls were interested in. The girls in my neighborhood were interested in dancing." 

"Makes sense. You learned to dance. I learned to play basketball." 

"You play basketball?!" Armando seemed excited. 

"Of course. I grew up in Indiana, a state where basketball is not a sport; it's a religion. If you wanted to be popular with the guys, you had to know a fast break from a slam dunk." 

"You really play basketball?" He just couldn't seem to get over this fact. 

"Not particularly well. I'm woefully out of practice. But occasionally I do shoot around with some of the folks down at the center's gymnasium." 

"Next time the Pacers play in Phoenix, you wanna fly down for the game?" 

"You're serious? Just fly to Phoenix to watch a basketball game?" 

"Yeah, why not?" 

"Well, okay. Check the schedule and let me know." 

The waitress came by and ended that line of conversation. 

"Do you still have that delicious chocolate mousse cake on the menu?" Armando asked her. 

"Certainly sir. It's one of our most popular desserts." 

"Great, why don't you bring us two of those and coffee?" 

"Right away sir." 

Armando realized Cass was staring at him. "What, you don't like chocolate any more?" 

"I love chocolate but I don't remember mentioning it to you." 

"You haven't. But you think I don't see what's in your trashcans? I believe you're single handedly keeping the M&M Mars company in business." 

"Well, my sweet tooth is legendary but I sincerely doubt that I'm solely responsible for one company's profits... And what were you doing snooping through my trash cans?" 

"I wasn't snooping. I'm just observant" Okay, so it wasn't a completely honest statement. He'd done a little snooping. But he wasn't going to mention it here. 

"Yeah, I'll bet." 

Their conversation was interrupted again by the waitress; this time bringing their dessert. 

"Mmmmmm. This is wonderful," Cass exclaimed. "Like a piece of chocolate heaven." 

Armando smiled. He was so glad he'd brought her here. Somehow he knew she'd be someone who would appreciate all that the club had to offer. The music, the food, even the coffee was best that Las Vegas had to offer. And yet, it was all so understated. As they were licking the last crumbs off their forks, they saw the band return for another set. 

"Are you ready to go at it again?" she asked. 

"I'm right behind you." 

The music again wove its magic around the dance floor. Cass and Armando were barely cognizant of the other couples dancing. Through out the set, they spoke few words and looked only at each other. Neither one realize just how long they'd been dancing until the last notes faded away and the band started to put away their instruments. 

"Well, I guess it's time to go home," Cass sighed. 

"You sound a little reluctant for the evening to end." Armando hoped he was right. 

"A little." 

"It doesn't have to, you know" He knew he had to go slowly here. "Your wish is my command." 

"Don't tempt me," she chided. 

He held her close and kissed her neck just behind her ear where he knew she was particularly sensitive. "Why not? Isn't that how it goes? I tempt you. You resist. I tempt you. You resist. I tempt you. You give in." 

"Something like that. The problem is I'm too close to giving in." 

"Cass, I love you." 

Where had that come from? He certainly didn't know. Yet, he knew that it was completely honest. It wasn't something he'd said just to get her to spend the night with him. But would she know it? 

"I know you do." She took a half step back and caressed his face. "Let's go for the car. We can talk on the way home." 

They walked off the dance floor stopping briefly at their table to get her wrap and purse. When the stepped outside the Neon Blue, Michael was waiting for them. Cass wondered how he knew to be there. 

Mike held the door open for the couple. As Armando got in he looked at his boss with one question written all over his face. 

"Take us to the farm, Mike," Armando whispered. 

Mike nodded, closed the door and walked back to the driver's seat. 

Cass and Armando sat in silence for several uncomfortable minutes. Then they both started to speak at the same time. 

"Ladies first." Armando insisted. 

"No, you go. Age before beauty," she laughed. 

"Cass, I'm not sure where we're goin'." 

"Well, I'd guess where ever you told Mike to take us." 

"No, not the car. You and me. I told you that if you gave me a second chance, I'd give you total control. I thought that would be easy enough. But the fact is I don't like it. I'm feeling like we're totally out of control." 

Cass' mirth was cut short by his words. How could he know exactly how she was feeling? Was he psychic? 

"Me, too. It's been weird. I thought it would be nice to be the one to call the shots. But I'm not sure what shots to call any more." 

"Cass, I wasn't kidding when I said I love you. And I wasn't saying it as part of some scam to get you into bed with me... although if things worked out that way, I'd be happy. You know what I'm saying?" 

"Yes, I do know. And I wish I could give you that. But there are some issues from my past I've got to finish dealing with before I can make that happen for you. 

"And just so you know, I DO want to make it happen. But the timing just isn't right now." 

He kissed her softly, with affection but no passion. "I understand." 

For the remainder of the ride home, she sat curled up next to him, his arm protectively around her. She rested her head against his shoulder. 

"Can I ask you one more question?" he inquired. 

"Sure." 

"What do you want for Christmas?" 

"Peace on earth. Goodwill towards men." 

"No, really," he insisted. 

"You heard me. Peace on earth. Goodwill towards men." 

"Could you pick something a little more attainable?" 

"I'm sorry. But I make a decent living and I have all I need right now." 

"Forget needs. Think wishes. Think wants. Think desires." 

"But you just told me my wishes weren't attainable." 

"Work with me here." 

"I'm not trying to be obstinate. I just can't think of anything I want right now. I'm pretty happy with what I have in my life at this point in time. It's like the weather guy on the radio said the other day. 'It don't suck to be me.'" 

"Okay, leave me hanging here." 

"If I think of anything, I'll let you know." 

"Thanks." He kissed the top of her head. 

Soon they were pulling in the driveway to her home. Cass straightened up from her contorted position. When her door was opened, she was ready to step out. Armando followed her to the front door of her home. He chivalrously insisted on making sure she was safely inside before he left. She dropped her purse and wrap on the kitchen counter then turned to say good night. 

He pulled her close and held tightly for several long seconds, soaking in the feel of her, knowing he wouldn't see her for another four days. 

"I'll see you Wednesday," he said. Then he held her face in both hands and kissed her slowly and sweetly. 

Cass responded to his kiss in a way that surprised her. She felt as those her bones had become rubber and wouldn't support her any more. She grabbed at his shoulders to regain her balance. 

"Are you okay, Cass?" 

"Your kisses make me dizzy," she replied. 

"I like to hear that." He hugged her again and then carefully let her go. 

"Good night, Armando. I'll see you Wednesday." 

"Good night, Cass." 

He walked out of the house and she locked the door behind him. She was still feeling a little woozy so she walked into the kitchen and fixed a cup of peppermint tea. She sat at the breakfast nook and looked down the driveway. But the lights of the limousine had long since vanished. She thought about Armando and his desire to get her something for Christmas. My word, it was just four weeks away. What was she going to do for him? She thought for a few minutes and then had the perfect idea. But she was going to need a co-conspirator. "Hmmm. I wonder if Nero would help me?" she thought. 

Feeling less weak-kneed, she walked back toward her office and design studio. She turned on the computer and looked at her schedule for the next few weeks. It was going to be tight but she could probably just make it. First, though, she had to finish knitting the hat, scarf and mittens she was sending back to Chicago for Benton. He'd been sending her Diefenbaker's fur whenever he brushed the wolf. She had combined it with Almak's and then spun it with a little bit of wool from Daisy, one of her llamas. The resulting yarn would be just the thing to keep away the cold and wet of a Chicago winter. She wanted to make sure it had plenty of time to get shipped across the country. 

The peppermint tea had finally kicked in full force and she felt herself getting drowsy. "Call it a night, Cass," she told herself. "Everything will still be here when you get up." Stumbling into the bathroom, she washed her face, brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. Slipping under her covers, she could feel herself drifting off before her head even hit the pillow. 

* * *

Sunday dawned bright and clear. The first order of business was to check on the livestock. Cass pulled on jeans, a shirt and her boots. The dogs barked at her as she walked by the kennel. "Don't worry guys. You're my next stop." The sheep and the llamas looked fine. She cleaned out the barn, dumping the manure into her compost pile. She inhaled deeply as she turned the pile. Yes, it was a little heavy on the animal waste. She'd need to get some more vegetation into it. Her barn duties done, she walked back to the kennel. The dogs ran indoors as they saw her coming. She let them loose inside while she grabbed their bowls. It took some juggling skills to carry three bowls of dog food back to the runs while the dogs were scurrying around her feet. But they knew the drill well and each sat in their own run while she brought the food in. She grabbed the hose, a bucket and a bottle of disinfectant then mixed a concoction to sanitize their pens. Once the dogs had gulped down their breakfast, they ran to their outdoor runs. Cass started cleaning with Almak's pen. Being a bigger dog, he made bigger messes than both the Corgis put together. That done, she went on to the next two pens. When the inside was finish, she opened the small doors and whistled for the dogs to come back inside so she could do the other half. None of them liked the disinfectant smell and were always reluctant to enter. But they knew she would squirt them with the hose to get them to move if she had to. 

After the kennel was looking spic and span she stopped to spend some time with each of the dogs. She started today with Almak. As usual, he wasn't particularly interested in her since she no longer had food in her hands. But he did submit to her quick check of him. She had to admit that he was one fine looking canine, even if his parentage was questionable. Ben was second. He seemed a little indifferent to the attention she paid him. As she checked between his paw pads for any foreign objects, she heard him sigh. "Yes, I know sweetheart. You put up with this but you'd really rather I just let you chase the sheep and not fuss over you so much. Just like your namesake, you are." Finally, she got to Ray. He was much more affectionate than the other two. Oh, he liked to herd the sheep as much as Ben but he also liked the human companionship that Cass provided. He could hardly hold still as she ran her hands over his body, checking for any mats in his coat or parasites on his body. If he'd had a tail, it would have wagged off his body. As it was, he kept jumping up to try to lick her face. "Cool it!" she instructed him. He calmed down for a few minutes but as soon as she had finished, he was trying to lick her face again. "All right. I give up," she said as she buried her face in the soft fur around his neck. "You're just too lovable to resist." 

A short time later she was back in her house, drinking green tea and waiting for her bagel to pop out of the toaster. Her cream cheese spread waited for her on the counter along with the other toppings she had planned. She didn't remember exactly when she'd discovered this combination but it had remained one of her favorites. Onion bagel, chive and onion cream cheese spread, bacon crumbles and dried tomatoes. She preferred fresh tomatoes but at this time of the year a good fresh tomato was impossible to find. Last year, her mom had sent her several packages of dried tomatoes, picked fresh from the acid soil of her Hoosier garden. Even dried, the tomatoes still had the flavor that made Cass think of her home. In her opinion, you just couldn't get a better tomato that one grown in Indiana. 

Breakfast finished. She showered and dressed. She pulled her hair back into a short ponytail and headed towards basement. Here was all the equipment she used in making her creations. Her spinning wheel, her looms and her knitting frames were all set up here. She also had an impressive stash of yarns; both hand spun and commercially produced. It was to this stash that she went. She'd had an idea to knit Armando a sweater for Christmas. She wanted something that would complement his amber green eyes and his Mediterranean olive skin. After looking for several minutes, she found just the yarn she was looking for. It was a tweedy green light weight wool that she'd picked up on a trip to Canada the year before. She'd been teaching some seminars at a spinners and weavers convention. One day, between sessions, she decided to tour the city and see what Canadian yarn shops had to offer. Yes, this would be the perfect yarn. She looked nervously and hoped she had enough to do a sweater. There should be but she hated to start something not knowing if it was going to work. She walked over to her computer and turned it on. Within minutes, she had a knitwear design program on the screen and was fiddling with necklines and sleeve styles. She knew the yarn was fancy enough in itself that the design wouldn't need much embellishment. Once she had her design, she started looking at measurements and estimating how much yarn she'd need. 

"Hmmmm. This could be close. I definitely need a co-conspirator," she said as she picked up the phone and dialed Armando's number. It rang twice. 

"Langostini residence," the voice answered. 

"Nero, this is Cass Lindsey." 

"Good morning Ms. Lindsey. Mr. Langostini is in the shower. Shall I have him call you back?" 

"No, actually, you're the person I was wanting to talk to." 

"Me?" He sounded shocked. 

"Yes, I was hoping you could help me with something. You see, I'm designing Armando a sweater for Christmas and I don't know what his measurements are. I was hoping that you might have them available." 

"Yes, I can get them for you. Precisely which measurements do you need?" 

Cass and Nero discussed the measurements and his boss' preferences for style. Then suddenly she heard his tone of voice change. 

"I'm sorry sir, you have the wrong number," he said. 

"Armando, just walked in, didn't he?" 

"Yes, that's correct." 

"Thanks for keeping my secret." 

"No trouble at all," he replied and the line went dead. 

Cass laughed. Nero certainly had covered that well. Taking her information back to her computer, she plugged in the numbers and waited for the computer to tell her whether or not she had enough yarn. Yes, it looked like she did. She was very relieved. Well, that could be tomorrow's project. Today she had to finish Benton's present and get it ready to ship. 

* * *

Tuesday before class, she spoke to Otis about him helping out at her farm. His face broke into a huge smile. 

"Cass, you don't know how much I appreciate this. Ever since I got sick, I've been telling myself how useless I am." 

"Otis, you're not useless. In fact, you're turning out to be the best spinner in the class. I may keep taking care of the animals and let you take over the fiber arts." 

"Now Cass, I know you're just bein' kind. But thanks. And thanks for taking a chance on me. You know, some folk wouldn't take to letting an ex-con come work for them." 

"Otis, you've got a good and kind heart. Whatever you did in your past is just that...history. What matters to me is here and now. So how about, you be at my place tomorrow morning at eight o'clock and I'll start showing you the ropes." 

"I'll be there, Cass." 

The other guys wandered into the room just as they were finishing their conversation. Cass was happy to see that they were all looking forward to the day's activity. Spinning yarn on a drop spindle wasn't nearly as quick as doing it on a wheel. In fact, it could get down right tedious. But she'd amused them by telling them stories of how she'd learned to spin and sang them spinning songs that she'd learned during a trip to Scotland. 

When she got home from the center, she took care of her animal chores and wandered down to her basement. That morning, she had programmed her computer to write Armando's sweater pattern. Now the pattern was waiting for her and she printed it. She took the pages to her bulky knitting frame and cast on ninety-six stitches. Moments later, she was into the rhythm of her knitting. She stopped at seven to eat a sandwich and a salad. Dinner finished, she returned to her studio to work on the sweater. 

At ten o'clock, she stopped for the evening. When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard a noise. It was the dogs barking. Normally at this time they'd be sound asleep inside the kennel. She turned out the outside lights and went to the door. She looked out and didn't see anything but knew the dogs did not normally bark like that. She walked to the kennels, expecting to see some sort of wild animal that had set them off. But when she got there, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. She stopped for a moment, closed her eyes and tried to intuit what might be bothering them. She felt vague traces of negative energy but it was too diffuse and weak to really latch on to. Not knowing what else to do, she left the kennel and walked back to her house. Once inside she locked the door and headed towards her office. She had a small Wiccan alter set up there. After casting her circle, she spent several minutes in meditation trying to determine just what she had felt earlier. But it was still too vague. Just for good measure, she cast a spell of protection. Feeling more at peace, she uncast her circle, and headed for her bathroom to get ready for bed. 

* * *

Armando's eyes popped open at six o'clock Wednesday morning. He wasn't sure what had awakened him. But the worry he'd been carrying for the last three days was still with him. Something Frankie had said at the restaurant bothered him. In a round about sort of way, he'd threatened to extract revenge. Armando's concern wasn't for himself. He known guys like Frankie long enough to know what kind of stunt he'd pull. No, he wouldn't do anything against Armando directly. But Cass could be a target. 

Armando groaned as he rolled over. Just four weeks ago, he'd convinced himself he could keep her safe. Now, things had changed. She'd proved far more independent that he'd first realized. Things he might once have done to safeguard her would be despised by her. 

He thought about warning her but had no idea what he would say. He couldn't very well admit that he had infiltrated one of the country's most notorious crime families. Let alone tell her that Frankie might take his hatred of Armando out on her. No, he'd have to tread very lightly here. He'd make a few calls and see what he could come up with. 

He continued to ruminate until his alarm clock began chirping an hour later. He headed to his shower. He let the warm water beat down on his body and try to loosen the knots of tension in his shoulders. No luck. He knew he was just going to have to give in and go to that massage therapist Nero recommended. He donned his silk robe and walked towards the kitchen. 

On the breakfast table was a glass of buttermilk and a bowl of strawberries. He started eating his breakfast, still worried about Cass. His cook brought him a big stack of pancakes and sausage. 

"I knew you were going to Ms. Lindsey's today so I thought you might like a farm breakfast. If you like, I can fix you some eggs too." 

"No thanks, Mrs. P.," he replied. "This is fine. I'm not that hungry this morning." 

"Are you feeling well, sir?" 

"Yes, Mrs. P. I just didn't sleep well last night." 

"Well, I wonder about you when you say you don't want a big breakfast." 

He had to smile. She was such a dear woman. In some ways, she reminded him of his mother, always worrying about those around her. 

"I've gotta save room for Cass' cooking too Mrs. P." 

"All right, dear. Michael said the car would be waiting for you in the front driveway when you were ready to go." 

Armando finished his breakfast and went to his study to check the news before he left. Nothing new and different here. War, famine, pestilence. The names changed but the games remained the same. He tried to shake off the depression that had started to grip him but found he couldn't. "Well, maybe seeing Cass will cheer me up." 

He knew if he left now, he'd arrive earlier than she was expecting him but he just couldn't stay at home. He practically ran to his dressing room. He threw on the first pair of jeans his hands touched. A tight T-shirt went on next with a chambray work shirt over it. He pulled on socks and shoes and started to run out the door. Just before he got there, he realized he'd forgotten to put on a belt. He ran back for it and then ran out of the house still putting it on. 

He drove quickly across the miles separating him from Cass. And when he pulled into her driveway, the vague worry that had bothered him since Saturday night became a full-blown panic as he saw sheriff's cars in front of her house. He jumped out of the car yelling. 

"Cass!" 

A deputy sheriff stepped out of the garage. Armando ran towards him. 

"Where's Cass? What happened?" 

"And who might you be?" 

"I'm a friend of hers. Now what happened?" 

"Could I have your name sir?" 

"Langostini, Armando Langostini. Where is Ms. Lindsey?" 

At that moment, Cass walked out of the kennel with the dogs tagging along, heading towards the barn. Armando would have run straight into her arms but the deputy detained him. Cass saw the scene unfolding in her driveway and changed her direction. It only took less than a minute for her to reach the officer. 

"Is there a problem here officer?" she inquired. 

"Cass, tell this schmuck who I am please," he implored. 

"Ms. Lindsey, this man claims to be a friend of yours." 

"Yes deputy. That's correct. You really don't need to restrain him." 

The deputy stood back. Armando grabbed Cass and held her close. 

"What happened?" he asked 

"Vandals," she replied waving her hand in the direction of the barn. 

"The animals... are they?" He couldn't finish his sentence not knowing what he'd do if her answer were negative. 

"They're fine. Look, would you go in the house and fix me a cup of tea? I've got to finish up the paperwork with the sheriff's department and then..." She sighed heavily. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah, but I could really use that cup of tea." 

"I'm on my way." He walked toward the house looking back over his shoulder at Cass as she walked slowly towards the barn. Her shoulders were slumped, hands hanging limp at her sides. Anger began to boil in him. He went into her kitchen and saw that the kettle was already on the stove. He turned on the burner and began to rummage through her cabinets looking for tea. He soon found several boxes. Choosing one at random, he plopped a bag in the mug he found in the dish drainer. And waited for the water to get hot. 

He walked to the dining room window and looked out towards the kennel and the barn. The dogs were barking excitedly at all the strangers walking around. He saw Cass talking with a man in a brown officer's uniform and an older man dressed in coveralls. He could tell by her posture that she was angry and giving the two men a piece of her mind. Yes, he'd seen that stance before and been on the receiving end of one of her tongue-lashings. He didn't envy those guys. 

He heard the kettle whistle from the kitchen and went to retrieve it. He poured the hot water in the mug and let it steep. The aroma of the herbs wafted pleasantly to his nostrils. Knowing Cass' sweet tooth, he put in two spoons of sugar and stirred it well before he walked outside. The deputies where back at their cars when he walked out. He heard one talking to Cass as he handed her a piece of paper. 

"Well, Ms. Lindsey, we'll let you know if we come up with anything. In the mean time, here's a copy of our report for your insurance." 

"Thank you, officer." 

They were driving away when she turned and saw Armando on her porch. He smiled at her as he walked her direction. She saw he had a mug in his hands. She had really sent him inside to get him out of her hair for a while. But now, the idea of a cup of tea seemed perfect. 

"Here," he said handing her the mug, "I wasn't sure what kind you wanted so I just grabbed." 

"Thanks. I'm not sure I knew what I wanted." 

"So, you wanna tell me what happened? Or do I have to guess?" 

"Last night, I heard the dogs barking. It seemed odd because they're usually quiet at night. When I came out, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. So I just went back inside. This morning, when Otis came over, I took him out to the barn and that's when I found the vandalism." 

They'd been walking in the general direction of the barn, an area Armando had never visited. He didn't know what to expect but when he got there, his eyes grew wide. Windows had been broken. Paint had been splattered. And on one wall were the words "FAG HAG'. 

"Fortunately, they didn't get inside. I think I might have frightened them when I flipped on the lights." 

They looked up to see Otis walk out of the barn. 

"Armando, this is Otis. He's agreed to help me out with the animals. Otis this is Armando Langostini." 

The men shook hands and silently took each other's measure. 

"What now, Cass?" Otis asked. 

"God, I just don't know," she said as she burst into tears. Armando put a protective, supportive arm around her. "I was used to this when Christopher was alive. It seemed like we were always being harassed in some way or another. It's just so weird that something like this would pop up again. My god, he's been dead for nearly a year." 

She continued to cry, tears dropping in her empty mug. Otis gently took that from her and walked silently to the house. 

"Oh, Cass," was all Armando could say as he folded her gently into his embrace. He was now certain that Frankie had something to do with this. He tried to keep his anger hidden but couldn't. 

"Those bastards," he muttered. He felt Cass break from his embrace to look at him. He schooled his features into the half-truth he was about to tell. 

"What?" she asked. 

"I'm sorry, it's just that people who do this kinda stuff out of hate, really piss me off." 

"Yeah, me too," she responded. 

"Tell ya what, why don't we go inside and make some plans to undo the damage these people have done?" 

She smiled. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." 

They walked back to the house, arm in arm with the dogs following closely. Otis was there waiting for them. 

"You feelin' better Cass?" he asked solicitously. 

"Yeah, thank Otis. I know this wasn't the way you'd planned on spending your morning. But I do appreciate you holding my hand while the police were here." 

"After all the hand holdin' you've done. You deserve to get a little back. Now, why don't I head into town, get some paint and some replacement glass and tomorrow we'll have that old barn lookin' like new." 

"Otis, I couldn't ask that of you. You only offered to help out with the animals." 

"You didn't ask. I volunteered. Do as I say girl, and tomorrow afternoon no one will ever be able to tell what happened." 

Cass walked back to her office and came out holding several twenty-dollar bills. She handed them to Otis and then wrapped her arms around the big man in the best hug she could give him. 

"Thank you, Otis. For everything." 

"You're welcome, Cass." He walked out the door shutting it firmly but carefully behind him. 

Armando looked at Cass and saw tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. Not sure if they were tears of sadness or joy, he didn't say anything. He just watched her as she blinked the tears away. 

"I am so blessed," she whispered. 

He was stunned. "Cass how can you say that at a time like this?" 

It was her turn to be stunned. "Armando, how can I not? Think about what could have happened. The sheep and the llamas could have been injured or killed. They could have gotten into the kennel and done something to the dogs. Or for that matter, they could have gotten inside the house! And now, here's Otis volunteering to help get the barn back in shape again. How could I not think I'm blessed?" 

"Look, you're taking this Little Mary Sunshine act just a bit too far. I can't believe you're not mad as hell." 

"Oh, trust me. An hour ago I was so mad I couldn't even see straight. Ten minutes ago when that stupid deputy tried patronizing me, I was ready to kick him in the ass. But now I'm just feeling very blessed that all the terrible things that could have happened didn't." 

The ringing phone interrupted their conversation. 

"Hello," Cass said. 

"Mom? Well, this is a surprise. 

"No, it's just been a bad morning. And you caught me as I was walking out the door to work Benny and Ray. 

"Yes, mom. I'm fine. I swear." She crossed her fingers behind her back. "Now what's so all fire urgent that you're calling me on a Wednesday morning?" 

Cass' face went pale. 

"He did. 

"You are. 

"The twenty second. 

"Oh yeah, ma, that sounds great. Let me know when you have more details. Bye." 

She hung up the phone and stared into space for a few seconds. Then she sat down weakly at the kitchen counter. 

"What's up?" Armando asked. 

"That was my mom. She and dad are coming out here to spend Christmas with me." 

"Really? That's great." 

"Great? My god, it's gonna be a nightmare. They'll be here for a whole week." 

"Come on, Cass. They're your parents. I'd give my left testicle to see my folks for Christmas." 

"Well, obviously, our families are quite different. I've not spent more than three days with them since I moved out here." 

"You're kidding." 

"Nope. They came out for Christopher's funeral and I was back home for Christmas last year. I haven't seen them since. I was supposed to go home for a cousin's wedding last spring but that was canceled. Minnie found out her fianc was already married." 

"Well, that was a close call." 

"Yeah," she said distractedly. "What am I supposed to do with my parents for a full week?" 

"Oh, come on. Las Vegas is a great town. There's plenty to do. 

"However, it does make me bring up a subject I've been putting off. I was hoping to spend some time with you for the holidays. Any chance of that still happening?" 

"Oh, I don't know. I just can't think about it now. Let's go outside and play with the dogs. Benny and Ray really need to work the sheep." 

They went outside and collected the two Corgis from the kennel and then walked to the barn. She instructed Armando to hold on to the dogs while she opened the door on the opposite end. That was easier said than done. Ray and Benny knew what it meant to be in the barn and they wiggled and squirmed with all their might. But Cass was quick and got the sheep out into the pasture. 

She came back and retrieved the anxious canines from Armando. Soon they were outside with the sheep. Cass was whistling commands to the two dogs to direct their movements. Sometimes she wondered if the sheep knew the drill as well as the dogs did. But at that very minute, one lamb wandered off, not following the rest of the herd. Ray was on her in a flash, guiding her back to the safety of the flock. He and Benny worked well together finally bringing the sheep back to the pen. 

Cass rewarded them both with lots of affection. They looked up at her with anxious grins on their faces. One question locked in their brains. Would she let them do it again? The answer was swift in coming. 

Cass released the two youngest lambs. Then she made Benny lie down at her side while Ray got to herd solo. Ray was a good worker, if a little over exuberant. But he had a natural herding instinct and only peripherally watched Cass. He just knew what he had to do. 

The exercise finished and she repeated it with Ray at her side and Benny working. Clearly, this is not what Ray had in mind. He whined and fussed at her feet and Cass ignored him. She was used to his petulance. But he had to learn to honor while another dog worked. 

When Benny was done, she let the sheep back into the barn. Then she and Armando watched while the dogs took turns herding each other. She saw Armando smile. 

"Quite the pair, aren't they? I call them my twin sons of different mothers." 

"Huh?" Armando looked surprised. 

"The breeder had two litters whelp on the same day. I took one dog from each litter. Those two have never known a life that didn't involve each other. I don't want to think what would happen if they were ever separated." 

"It would be hell," Armando said under his breath. 

Cass heard him say something but didn't understand the words. She looked at him with a quizzical look in her eyes. 

"Hey, they're guys. They'd deal with it, " was his assertion. 

"Yeah, I'm sure they would. Hey, it's almost time for lunch. I'm starving. How about you?" 

"Let's eat." 

They put the dogs in the kennel and walked to the house. There was a pot of vegetable soup waiting for them. After eating their fill of it, Armando gazed at Cass. He wanted to say something about Frankie. But he just didn't know what to say. Then he thought about their conversation Saturday night. He still didn't have a clue as to what to get her for Christmas. She obviously wasn't the jewelry type. Perfume seemed so clich' and he wouldn't know what to get her anyway. Lingerie? No, not a good idea. 

She turned around from her sink and saw him watching her. She smiled at him. 

"So, Mr. Langostini, what would you like to do this afternoon?" 

"Look at your beautiful face." 

"Seriously, I'm glad you came over this morning but I really wasn't expecting you. So now that we've spent a few extra hours together, I was hoping you'd have some idea of a way to pass the afternoon." 

"I am serious. I could just sit here all afternoon and look at you." 

"No, you couldn't. I wouldn't stay still that long." 

"Okay, what do you want to do?" 

"Armando, I cleared my afternoon to do what you wanted to do. And now you tell me you have no plans?" 

"Nope. I just wanted to spend time with you today. What we do is up to you." 

She looked at his feet and saw he was wearing tennis shoes. 

"Let's go down to the center and shoot some hoops." 

"Really?" he asked. That had certainly gotten his attention. 

"Yeah. I haven't played in months so you may have to go easy on me." 

"Never!" he exclaimed. 

"Okay, hang loose while I go change my clothes." She ran off and came back a few minutes later wearing shorts and an Indiana Pacers sweatshirt. "Well, let's go." she urged. 

It didn't take them long to get to the gymnasium. And remarkably they had the whole place to themselves. Cass grabbed a ball from the rack and launched it at the basket from the three-point line. 

Swish. Nothing but net. 

Armando had the sinking feeling he'd just been hustled. He grabbed the ball and tossed it in bounds to her, guarding her closely as she drove towards the goal. She was quick and agile which surprised him. She spun out and tossed the ball towards the bucket. Once again, all he heard was the sound of the ball going through the hoop. He'd definitely been hustled. 

She went after the ball and tossed it in to him. Even though he had a few inches on her in height, she was a good jumper and was reasonably effective at blocking his shots. After nearly thirty minutes of heavy one-on-one with only minimal breaks, he called it a game. 

"Where'd you learn to play like that?" he asked in amazement. 

"I told you it was the only way I could get the guys to notice me." 

"I find that hard to believe." 

"Well, it's true. I was kind of a late bloomer, you might say. Not the kind of girl the guys normally took notice of. But, my brothers were always willing to play basketball with me and so I developed it into a way to be buddies with some guys at my school." 

"Yeah, but that's been years ago. You're still good." 

"Thank you. I try to play regularly. There used to be a group of women who played every week but that kind of fell apart. So since then, I just come down here and shoot baskets by myself and if anybody shows up wanting to play, I'm game. Unfortunately, I think my reputation has pretty much scared away potential opponents." 

"Yeah, I can see how that would happen." 

"So, have I scared you?" 

"Not on your life, lady." He grabbed her by the waist and wrestled her to the floor. 

"Foul!" she cried. 

"Too bad, there's never a referee around when you need one." 

He held her to the hardwood and kissed her soundly. She made a token resistance but soon gave up. 

"You know, I've never necked with a girl on a basketball court," he said. 

"Neither have I," she replied and then broke up laughing. 

She took that opportunity to stand up and then looked at Armando still sitting on the floor. She reached out a hand and he gratefully took her assistance to stand up, groaning has he did. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. 

"Just a little stiff and sore," he admitted. 

"Well, I've got just the answer for that. Let's go back home." 

They road back home talking about basketball all the way. Cass had not been kidding when she said she knew a slam dunk from a fast break. They discussed the relative merits of several pro teams since the season had just recently begun. Soon they found themselves pulling into the driveway. 

"I'm gonna do my chores," she said looking towards the kennel and the barn. You wanna come with me or would you rather head inside?" 

"I'm dressed for barn work. I think I can come with you." 

"Okay let's go." 

Armando was good help. With his assistance she finished her chores in just over half the time it would have taken her to do it alone. Soon they were heading back to the house. 

When she got inside, she looked at him and then herself critically and declared that they both needed a shower. He smiled lecherously. 

"May I come help you wash your back?" he asked. 

She thought about it for a moment. She wasn't sure she wanted to be physically intimate with him again just yet. Sure, the last time had been great but it had also been a pure fluke. She wasn't sure they could duplicate that magic again and she didn't know how she'd feel if it weren't as good. But he'd said she could be in control. Here was a chance for her to do it. She could feel herself taking charge. 

"Yes, you may," she replied. "But that's as far as it goes." 

"Good clean fun. Nothing more." he promised holding up his right hand as if taking an oath. 

Hand in hand, she led him to her bathroom grabbing an extra set of towels from the linen closet on the way. She stripped off her dirty sweaty clothes and tossed them into her hamper. Even with laundry, she had a beautiful hook shot. She looked at Armando, who was standing there staring at her, still fully clothed. 

"You gonna shower like that?" she asked? 

"No, I was just uhhh..." 

"Staring at me?" 

"Well, yeah." He grinned sheepishly for a moment and then quickly stripped off his clothes. 

Cass got in the shower and adjusted the water to a warm temperature. Momentarily Armando joined her. He hugged her tightly and kissed her beautiful mouth becoming more aroused by the second. She was taken aback but returned his kisses passionately and pulled him with her into the spray of the shower. It seemed like an eternity before they parted. She grabbed the shampoo and washed her hair quickly. Then she dribbled shower gel on her bath puff and squeezed past Armando to let him have full access to the water. 

She was at the other end of the tub, scrubbing her legs when she felt him tap her on the back. She turned and he held out his hand. She handed the net puff to him but remained with her back turned to him. She felt the soft nylon brush against her back. The lather dribbled down her spine as he moved the puff in a circular motion across her shoulders and then working down. She arched her back in pleasure as he continued to work on her. Soon he was down to her waist and she waited breathlessly to see what would happen next. Would he stop there or would he go on? 

She felt the bath puff move around her right side. Soon it had stopped just at her navel. Armando pulled her back to hug her tightly. She felt his erection nudging against her. 

"I think I've gotten all the spots that would be difficult for you to reach," he whispered in her ear. Then he let her go. 

She turned and looked at him. "Damn, he looks good," she thought to herself. "Why can't I just let myself go and have another roll with him?" But she knew the answer to that only too well. 

"So, shall I return the favor?" she asked him. 

"Please." 

He switched places with her and handed her the wash cloth he'd been holding. She soaped it well and then began at his shoulders working in long sweeping strokes across his back. Soon she was at his waist. She pulled him back under the shower's spray to rinse off. They stood there for only a moment before he turned around and kissed her again holding her tightly against him. When he released her, she looked confused. 

"I want you, Cass. I think you can see that," he said looking down. 

She giggled nervously. "See that, feel that, yeah, I know." 

"Tonight?" 

She shook her head ruefully. "No, I've got something else planned for you." 

"Oh, like what?" 

"Go dry off and wait for me in the bedroom. I'll be there in a minute." 

He kissed her quickly before he stepped out. She stood under the water for a few more minutes making sure she had all the soap rinsed from her body. Turning off the shower, she reached for her bath sheet. She dried herself vigorously rubbing the sheet all over her body. Then she toweled her hair until it was just damp and slipped a hairband on her head to keep her auburn mane out of her eyes. 

She glanced into the bedroom and saw Armando looking at the stuff on her vanity. She put on a terry cloth lounger and went back to her linen closet. From there she pulled out two sheets and a jar then walked back into the room. She lit some candles and them turned off the lamps. She turned on the small CD player by her bedside. Relaxing harp music filled their ears. Finally she spread one sheet on the floor. 

"Okay, lie down here," she said patting the sheet. 

He looked confused but complied. 

"On your back," she instructed. 

He rolled over and let her cover him with the other sheet. She pulled a small throw pillow from her chair and placed it under his head. She opened the jar and rubbed a tiny amount of the fragrant cream on her hands. 

"What's that?" he asked. 

"Something that's going to make you feel a lot better." 

She started with his head, massaging his temples and forehead, then her hands slid to his scalp and then back to his neck. She cradled his skull in her hands and turned his head left and right. She traveled to his right shoulder and arm, continuing her massage. Soon, he felt her place his arm back by his side, cover it with the sheet and then uncover his right leg. She proceeded to work around his body, only uncovering the area she was working on. By the time she'd traveled back up to his head, he felt very relaxed. 

"Okay, sweetie. Roll over and I'll get your back." 

"Easy for you to say," he mumbled. "Why don't we just quit here and let me sleep?" 

"No, sweetie, I haven't found your tension spot yet. Now roll over." 

With great effort he summoned enough energy to flip on to his stomach. Cass began massaging his shoulders and neck. He was a little tense but not as much as she'd suspected. As she worked her way down his back though, she found the muscles getting increasingly tight. 

He felt her warm hands on his butt when she exclaimed, "There it is!" 

"There's what?" 

"Your tension spot. Everybody has a place where they store their tension. Neck, shoulders and lower back are the most common spots. Yours is in your glutials." 

He felt her work that area extra firmly. He'd never noticed it before but she was right. He did carry a lot of tension in that area. He sighed deeply as he felt the muscles relax under her special care. It was a long time before he felt her move on down his legs. 

When she had finished, he was so deeply relaxed that he was only slightly aware of his surroundings. He felt her hand reach across his back in a semi-hug. Her breath was warm in her ear as she whispered 'thank you.' He tried to smile and reply but found he couldn't. 

He didn't know how much time had passed until she was gently shaking him telling him to get up and go to bed. He felt like he had been drugged. He couldn't shake this lethargy. A small part of him was alarmed, he'd been sedated before and it hadn't been pretty. But now, he couldn't quite summon the energy to care. 

"Armando, come on, if you sleep on the floor, you'll undo all the good I've just done." 

No response. Cass struggled to get his arm around her neck and get him to his feet. He acted like he was dead drunk. It wasn't what she had planned for the evening, but having no other choice, she let him fall into her bed. She pulled the covers over his naked body, blew out the candles and left him there. 

She went to the kitchen and made herself a turkey sandwich and put some chips on her plate. Cass found it remarkable that Armando had gone to sleep without eating dinner. He must have been very tired. She was tired too but she knew that she still had work to do. She made her way quietly down stairs to her knitting frame to work more on the sweater she was making him. Two hours later, she called it a night and climbed the steps up to the entryway. She stopped and listened carefully, listened for the sounds of barking canines. 

There was no sound coming from the kennel but she did hear a noise. She listened again and realized it was coming from her bedroom. She walked quickly there to see what was wrong. 

"No! Leave her alone!" It was Armando. "I said leave her out of this. Cassandra!" 

He sat straight up, unseeing eyes wide open. 

"Armando, I'm right here," she said as she rushed to his side and embraced him. 

He pushed her away, not recognizing her. She turned on a lamp then walked to the end of the bed and started talking to him. 

"Armando, its Cass. You're in my bed at the farm. I'm here with you and we're both fine. No one is going to hurt me. Wake up and look at me." 

He heard the voice but couldn't place it. He shook his head violently trying to wake up. 

"That's it, Armando. Come back to me. Wake up and look at me. Look and see where you are. Everything will be fine as soon as you wake up." 

He blinked rapidly and finally got his eyes to focus. 

"Cass?" he asked 

"Right here, sweetie," she replied as he reached for her. Once he felt her touch him, he started to shake. She climbed in the bed and held him tightly. 

"Can you tell me about it? Can you tell me your nightmare." 

He couldn't. He wasn't sure of the details himself. Only that a woman he loved was in trouble and he had been helpless. He couldn't save her. Who had he been trying to protect? 

"I can't, Cass. It's just too vague." 

"Sweetie, you're trembling. Don't move, I'll be right back." 

She ran to her medicine cabinet and retrieved a small brown bottle. She returned to her bed, removed the bottle cap and held it under his nose. 

"Here, just breathe in slowly and deeply." 

"What's that?" he asked suspiciously. 

"It's just a blend of Narcissus, Palma Rosa and Osmanthus essential oils. It'll help you relax." 

He shot her a look of extreme doubt. 

"Just try it, sweetie," she urged. "Here, breathe with me, in through the nose and out through the mouth." 

They inhaled and exhaled together for a few minutes before she had him breathing in the rhythm she knew would help. Nearly twenty minutes passed before he felt the panic that had gripped his belly subsided. 

"Feeling better now?" she asked. 

"Yeah, I am. Thanks." 

He kissed her cheek. 

"Feeling like you can verbalize it yet?" 

"Why are you so interested in my nightmares?" 

"Oh, so this isn't the first one you've had?" 

"I never said that." 

"Yeah, you did. But to answer your question, I find that if I can put my nightmares in to words, I can generally get past them much faster." 

"Sorry, Cass. It's just a vague image and an intense fear." 

"Okay, do you feel like you can get back to sleep or would you like me to make you some herb tea?" 

His thoughts went to Fraser and his remedy for everything, bark tea. 

"No, I think I can make it back to sleep, if you'll stay with me." 

"Give me a few minutes in the bathroom. And I'll be right with you." 

She raced through her nightly routine of washing her face and brushing her teeth. Within minutes, she had changed into her favorite pajamas and was sliding between the sheets of her bed. She checked her alarm clock, turned off the lamp then rolled on her side to look at Armando. His breathing didn't sound right. 

"You okay, sweetie?" 

"Yeah, I'm just trying to get comfortable." 

"Would this help?" she asked as she slid one arm across his chest. 

He clasped her hand in his. "Yeah, that helps a lot." 

She kissed his cheek. "Good night, Armando." 

"Good night, Cass." 

They both slept the rest of the night undisturbed. In the morning, the sunshine was completely obliterated by the clouds of a thunderstorm. Cass, normally awake before her alarm clock, hit the snooze bar twice before getting up. When she slid out of bed, Armando was still sound asleep. She knew he didn't like to sleep late when he spent the night but she felt it was best to let him stay in bed. She knew that he hadn't slept well the night before. 

She dressed quickly and walked quietly to the kitchen. She turned on the radio and listened to the weather report. A low-pressure system had stalled out over Las Vegas and rain was predicted for most of the day. She picked up the phone and called Otis, telling him not to bother coming over. They couldn't very well paint the barn in the rain. 

She pulled on her rain slicker and ran out to the barn. She made short work of her chores there before going to the kennels. She fed the dogs and waited for them to finish their breakfast. When they were through, she let them all follow her back to the house. Once inside, she toweled them off and made sure her bedroom door was closed so they couldn't disturb Armando. 

After washing up, she started on breakfast. She knew that this was Armando's main meal of the day and he hadn't eaten any dinner last night, so she cooked far more than she ever would just for herself. She had just spooned the batter on the waffle iron and then went in to the bedroom to wake him up. 

She opened the door intending on slipping in silently and waking him gently. Ray had other ideas. He ran past her and jumped up on the bed in a leap that defied both gravity and his short Corgi legs. 

"Ummmph!" Armando felt the dog land in his stomach and then jump on over him. He became fully conscious when Ray started licking his face and barking at him. Of course, where Ray went, Benny followed and soon there were two Corgis on the bed and a Husky mix on the floor by the bed barking at him. 

"All right, already!" 

Cass was appalled at the behavior of her canines but could only laugh at Armando's response. 

"And what are you laughing at?" he demanded. 

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for this to happen but you were so funny when Ray landed in your stomach." 

"Yeah, funny when it happens to me. How would you feel if you were in my place?" 

"Well loved. Now get up. Breakfast is ready." 

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." 

Armando laid back in the bed and thought about the previous night. He didn't have a lot of memories but he was now naked. Had he and Cass made love? He searched back for the last thing he clearly remembered; the shower. After that he'd laid on her bedroom floor and she had started to give him a massage. The feel of her hands on his bare flesh was still imprinted on his sense memory. He tried to remember getting into the bed but he couldn't. Suddenly a scene flashed across his memory. He was sitting up in bed with Cass holding some concoction under his nose. Had she drugged him? No, he refused to believe that possibility. Perhaps it was just best to throw on some clothes and go eat. 

Cass was piling waffles on a plate and carrying them to the breakfast nook when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Armando entering the kitchen. 

"Smells good," he commented and then saw the array of food on the table. "Cass, you didn't have to go to all this trouble." 

"Did it ever occur to you that I might want a big breakfast too?" 

"No, it didn't. I know your kind. A piece of toast and a cup of coffee and you think you've had breakfast." 

"Okay, I'm busted. But it really wasn't any trouble. Now sit down and tell me if those aren't the best waffles you've ever had." 

He sat as he was instructed and took a bite of waffle. There were flavors that he didn't recognize. The thought that she might be trying to poison him crossed his mind ever so briefly. He never said a word but Cass saw the worry cross his face. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, "They aren't the best waffles you've ever had?" 

"No," he replied too quickly. "I mean yes they are great waffles. I just didn't recognize what you'd done to make them so great." 

"They're pumpkin pie waffles." 

"What?!" he nearly choked 

"I replace the oil in the batter with pumpkin puree and then add pumpkin pie spices." 

He couldn't stand the suspense any longer. He had to get his worries out in the open. "Cass, I have a really embarrassing question to ask. What happened last night?" 

"Starting where?" she replied. 

"After the shower." 

"Well, I gave you a massage." 

"And what was in that stuff?" 

"Lavender, rosemary and cypress essential oils in a vegetable oil base." 

"Okay, what happened after that?" 

"You were deeply relaxed so I helped you into bed. Then I went downstairs to get some work done in the studio. When I came up, you were having a nightmare." 

"A nightmare." 

"Yeah, one hell of a nightmare. You shook like a leaf for quite some time afterwards. Then I came to bed and you fell asleep." 

"So we didn't uhh...?" 

"No, we didn't." She smiled gently. "I just held you and let you fall asleep in my arms. Now what's up with the twenty questions? You're acting like I'm some sort of homeopathic hit man. B.L.V. fears?" 

She knew he wouldn't answer that question directly but she looked for a clue in his facial expression. Nothing there. 

"I'm sorry, Cass. It's just that I don't normally wake up this groggy and disoriented. And I admit I haven't been sleeping well lately so..." he let his sentence drift off into nothingness. 

"Well, I suppose some of that would have to do with the fact that your blood sugar is probably somewhere around zero. We didn't eat a really big lunch before going to play ball yesterday. And then you didn't have any supper last night. Add that to the fact that you got a pretty heavy dose of aromatherapy and I can understand why you're groggy. But, I've got fruit here for you to get your glucose level up quickly and the waffles are made of whole-wheat flour so you won't have a sugar crash later. And the turkey bacon is protein so you should be doing well today. 

"So, why haven't you been sleeping well lately?" She asked changing the subject. 

"Cass, can we talk about this later?" he implored. 

"Sure. We'll talk about it right after you finish your breakfast." She immediately changed her focus to her plate of waffles and fruit. She made polite chitchat about the weather and how she'd have to wait another day to fix the damage to the barn. She knew she'd hit a nerve when she mentioned the vandalism. His face clouded over. 

"Okay, I lied. I won't give you until the end of breakfast. We're gonna talk about this now. Do you have some gift of prescience? Did you know in advance that I was going to be vandalized yesterday?" 

He winced at her last question. "Not specifically. But I had a hunch, sort of." 

"Sort of had a hunch? Armando, spill the beans, all of them and do it now. What do you know?" 

"Cass, I don't know how to tell you this." 

"Words, phrases, complete sentences..." 

"Fewer interruptions?" 

"Sorry." She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. 

"Cass, I've got serious concerns about your safety. I've had them ever since that run in with Frankie at the restaurant. Now, I'm probably way off base here. Frankie's such a weasel. But you can never be too careful. I'd feel a lot better if you'd let me get you some kind of protection out here." 

"And just what did you have in mind?" 

"I don't know. I haven't really thought things through. But I feel like I've got to do something. It's my fault you're going through this." 

"Armando, what are you talking about? The creeps who vandalized my barn are just a bunch of hate mongers who don't like the fact that I associate with gay men at the AIDS center. You had nothing to do with this. And no one appointed you my guardian angel. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself." 

"Look, I know you think your magic and potions and stuff are good enough. But I've seen what these guys can do. Hell, Cass, you've seen it too. Just go look at your barn." 

"Armando, I'm not going to argue with you about this." Her demeanor was calm but her voice was deadly serious. "I took care of myself in LaPorte. I took care of myself and Christopher in Chicago. And I will take care of myself in Las Vegas. Don't doubt my abilities, both magickal and practical to protect myself and those I love. I've been doing it for a very long time." 

"I don't know." He sounded very uncertain. 

Cass rose from her seat and moved to sit by Armando. "Sweetie, do you remember me telling you about that apartment in Chicago? What a bad neighborhood it was in?" 

"Yeah, so bad even the crack heads wouldn't live there." 

"Uh huh. And I lived to tell the tale. And that was before I knew anything about witches or spell or potions. I'll be fine. You'll see." 

"Do me one favor?" 

"What?" 

"Just be cautious. Guys like Frankie aren't obvious. They slide in, do their dirty work and slide out and they generally don't get caught." 

"I'll be careful. Now look, as much as I like spending time with you, we've both got work to do. And you can't do yours here. Get dressed. Go home. And quit worrying about me. If anything happens, I'll call you immediately. Otherwise, I'll see you Saturday night." 

"Okay." Armando kissed her cheek and then walked out of the kitchen while Cass busied herself with the dishes. More than anything, she wanted him to leave so she'd have time to work on his Christmas present. She knew she didn't have much time to work on it so every minute was important. 

A short time later, she had the dishwasher loaded and walked back to the bedroom. Armando was gathering his things preparing to leave. They walked silently to the garage, hand in hand. After throwing his overnight bag in the back seat of his Buick, he turned to Cass; this woman who'd unexpectedly captured his heart. 

He pulled her close and kissed her sweet lips. Her mouth opened gently under his and he felt the tip of her tongue caress his lips. He was taken aback by this uncertain turn of events but did not press the matter. When she pulled her mouth from his, he pulled her into a passionate embrace and buried his face in her hair, savoring the sweet aroma of jasmine. 

"I love you, Cassandra. Be safe." 

"I'll be very careful, Armando. And I'll see you Saturday." 

He reluctantly let her go and got into the car. After the initial roar of the engine starting up, the noise dimmed to a quiet purr. He backed out of the garage, into the turnaround and pulled out of the driveway. Cass wasn't sure how long she stood there looking towards the road and was only brought back to the present by the sound of two Corgis barking. 

She turned hastily and saw Ray and Benny standing in the doorway. Almak was just behind them. She walked in and shut the door behind her. She didn't quit walking until she got to her office. She slid open the closet door and reached for a plastic case on the shelf. Once she located that she felt around for a small metal box she knew would be there too. She took them to her bedroom, sat down on the bed and looked at the containers; not really wanting to open them. 

"The goddess helps those who help themselves," she said. Taking a deep breath, she opened the hard-shelled plastic case. Inside, packed in foam was a thirty-eight caliber handgun. The ammunition was in the metal box. She knew the rules of handgun safety better than most. She'd been schooled in it for as long as she could remember. And she couldn't quite bring herself to keep a loaded gun in the house. So she made a compromise. The gun came out of the case and went into the top drawer of her nightstand. The bullets were put in the next drawer down. Lastly, she prayed she'd never have to use them. 

The End 


End file.
